Page 48 of From Now On

Harlow’s head turns from watching Aidan and Rylan dance, twin lines appearing between her eyes as she studies me too.

Great, everyone’s worried about me.

“I’m fine,” I say. “Just tired. I didn’t get a great night’s sleep.”

I wait for Harlow to joke about the bathroom incident. But instead she asks, “Are you dating Holly Johnson?”

Hart’s full attention is on me as he waits for an answer.

“What?” I respond. “No. Where did you hear that?”

“Eve mentioned she saw you guys last weekend.”

Evethinks I’m dating Holly? She must have seen us together after she literally ran into me in the hallway. That’s…not ideal. That date was disastrous for reasons I didn’t even realize.

“Uh, yeah. We went out. But we’re definitely not dating.”

Conor nods once. “Oh, right. The bad date.”

“The date was bad?” Harlow sounds sympathetic. And curious. A little amused. If I had a sister, this is how I imagine she’d ask about my love life.

“It wasn’t great,” I say diplomatically.

“What happened?”

I exhale. “She really wanted to share a meal. Likereallywanted to. Kept asking me about every item on the menu, even though I’d already told her twenty times I’d decided on pizza?—”

Hart makes a choked coughing sound that’s an obvious attempt to cover a laugh.

Harlow elbows him. “Ignore Conor.”

I roll my eyes. “We just…we didn’t have a lot to say to each other. Dinner was awkward, and then she wanted to hook up after. I told her I wasn’t in the mood, and that went over…badly.”

“You shot her down?” Hart asks.

“I wasn’t a dick about it,” I say defensively. “But…yeah. And she didn’t take it super well. We cleared the air a little before break, but there’s nothing going on there. You can tell Eve I’m not dating her.”

Harlow’s forehead creases with confusion. “Why would I tell Eve that?”

Crap. I fumble for some explanation that doesn’t involve me caring that her best friend knows I’m single.

“Just…I’m sick of the rumor mill. I don’t want her—or anyone else—spreading inaccurate information about me.”

Harlow scoffs. “Hunter, I hate to break it to you, but girls are going to keep spreading inaccurate information about you. It’s the plague of being popular.”

I swig the last of my beer. “I’m not popular.”

Harlow shakes her head, like she disagrees with me but doesn’t want to bother arguing.

I’m not trying to be humble. I’ve always been the serious, quiet guy who rarely says or does anything remarkable. The interest in me is all secondhand. In high school, it was because of Sean. At Holt, it’s because of Conor and Aidan. If I am popular, it’s only by association.

I stand. “Gonna find the bathroom.”

“I think they’re by the entrance,” Harlow tells me. “I saw them when we came in.”

I nod my thanks, then head in that direction. As I walk, my eyes don’t wander toward the bar once.

My willpower is pretty solid.

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